


Hop To It

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Series: 50 Shades of Samifer [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Holidays, Lingerie, M/M, Month of Kinks, Samifer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer thinks Easter may just be his favorite holiday yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hop To It

**Author's Note:**

> **Kinks:** Panties, Crossdressing
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, there will be more lingerie fics to come. Don't worry. 
> 
> Happy Easter!
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of service. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

“Just. Whatever you say -- just don’t. Don’t.” 

Lucifer remained perched on the chair, lounging precariously on it with his feet on the seat and his backside on the top of the back, looking more like some bird of prey than a compassionate ally. Somewhere Dean is roaring with laughter in the background, the motel walls and door preventing the older sibling from bursting into the room to clutch his sides and grin madly. It’s tempting to peek through the curtains to peer at the older Winchester but the fallen archangel finds himself rather visually occupied. 

Sam is shrugging off his duffle bag and the rather heavy winter jacket meant for December, not in the end of March. There’s sweat catching in the dip of Sam’s neck where it meets with the collarbone, a hand moving to comb through his hair. The Winchester is searching vainly for his other bags and Lucifer gives a curious growl when Sam bends over. 

“Luce -- seriously?!” the hunter shoots him a withering look and the blond smiles rather innocently. 

Sam’s dressed as if he just rolled out from the Red Light District. The Winchester left with simple t-shirt and worn jeans on, but he’s in the room barefooted with black stockings bearing long tears across the calves. They hug and dig into his thighs where they stop, an obnoxious pink bow situated on each leg. Lace panties sit too snug on Sam’s hips, intricate designs of flowers across the entire shear piece of clothing. What catches his attention is the near lack of a back on the panties. The lacy material dips low, the crack of Sam’s backside exposed, framed by polka-dot bow that sits on a single strap on top keeping the panties from slipping. Matching colored bra is strapped onto his chest, one of the straps slid down and fabric tearing in the middle, Sam’s chest too broad. If Lucifer looks hard enough he can see the faint shade of pink of the hunter’s nipples. 

Lucifer cleared his throat, watching Sam search high and low for his luggage. “So,” the blond began, slipping off the chair to stand, “You...decided a new change in wardrobe is necessary?” 

The hunter looks as if he’s conflicted between flat out scowling at Lucifer or continuing on his search for his elusive luggage. Moving to open the closet, he shook his head, staring in coming annoyance at the emptiness presented before him. “No,” Sam huffed, “This....cupid -- it has to be -- got the jump on me and next thing I know, I’m waking up looking like -- ” Sam throws a hand in the air before jabbing at the duffle bag he brought in, “Like this.”

Lucifer curiously turns to the duffle bag, unzipping it to pull it aside with one finger. There nestled on the top were what looked like a headband bearing...rabbit ears? The blond archangel tilts his head, chuckling under his breath at the other accessories such as what looked like a now mutilated bunny tail. 

“A rouge...cupid. Out to get Sam Winchester on Easter Day. Someone seems upset that you missed Sunday mass.” 

“That’s what it looks like -- okay, where’s my clothes? My bags? My stuff?” 

The archangel is guilty of not listening, pallid eyes staring at Sam with rapt interest. Yes, humans are filthy and disgusting things. Yes, his perception on humanity has yet to change despite his promise to relatively behave. But Sam has always been this being that the Devil found attractive, perhaps due to the fact that he is his one true vessel, perhaps for other reasons entirely... It hardly matters the reason at this moment, acutely fixated on the bead of sweat running down Sam’s back from being bundled in humid weather. Sam keeps on talking, moving his arms about, one arm bending back to grab at the bra clip. 

Lucifer moves forward, eyes cooly examining the back of his vessel before his icy hands lay across Sam’s backside. Sam becomes suddenly still, arms dropping to his sides. Blunt nails rake across the underside of Sam’s backside, dragging them upward, bunching the lace together at the process. Pink streaks are left in the aftermath as those fingers slide up to curl under the string of fabric, thumbing the dark-colored bow. 

“I think,” the archangel drawls lowly, watching that lone bead of sweat he’s been eyeing, “We can hold off finding your luggage for a bit longer.” 

He gives into temptation, something terribly ironic there as he leans forward to suck that wandering sweat off his skin. Sam tastes like dirt, blood and gunpowder. Tastes of the seat of the Impala, worn but impeccably sturdy leather. His skin is feverish and Sam immediately tenses at the icy tongue tracing his spinal cord, causing his shoulders to pull back, bra straining in response. Hands are sliding to his waist, and there’s a word mouthed onto his skin, the Winchester smiling suddenly as if a secret was being shared. The mouthed word alone eases his nerves, head hanging as he steadies his breathing.

Sam gives a startled sound when those cold fingers are back to his backside, feeling curious digits slip through the rather gaping opening in the back, causing the hunter to squirm. His back arches inward, shoulders pushing out as he sucks in the air, an icy finger teasing him. It makes his skin break out into goosebumps and almost shamelessly rock back into that finger that does nothing but trace and nudge. 

“You’re enjoying this a bit too much,” Sam finally manages to breathe out and Lucifer chuckles, warm and rich. His other hand remains on Sam’s waist, holding him in place, fingers bruising the right side of his abdomen. 

“Never look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Sam snorts, rolling his eyes, “Uh huh. Your attention is definitely somewhere else.” The Winchester turns, pushing out of Lucifer’s hold reluctantly, wanting to turn to face the blond Devil. There’s a smirk on the older male’s face, drawing Sam’s calloused fingers to crawl across his jaw. Leaning forward, he presses his mouth into the smirk until it fades, mouth responding with a bellied hunger. Sam tastes it off Lucifer’s mouth, can feel it in the way his hands grab and dig into him. The way that fingers graze across the front of the panties where Sam’s beginning to harden, blood rushing southward when a clever tongue licks the inside of his mouth.

“Just trying to celebrate Easter...” comes mumbled words between becoming sloppy kisses and Sam pulls back to laugh, raising his eyebrows incredulously. Lucifer sighs, wistful and nodding, “ You’re right. It’s just not the same without those ears on.” Sam playfully pushes Lucifer away, the archangel’s laugh once more a pleasant rumble that makes Sam’s own ribs vibrate.

Sam gives a disbelieving laugh and makes his way towards the bed, shaking his head as his hands move to pull open the duffle bag once more. He can’t stay frustrated or annoyed at his predicament, or the relentless teasing he will receive from Dean till the day he’s six feet deep. Instead he can’t fight the coming grin on his face, turning around to face the Devil in presentation, a matching grin slapped onto his face.

The hunter points a finger at Lucifer, “Just wait till Halloween. You owe me.” 

The Devil raises his own finger, making a 'x' across his heart in promise before he’s pushing the Winchester down onto the bed. Easter may just become his favorite holiday yet.

**Author's Note:**

> _Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


End file.
